A Different Kind Of Freedom
by Mag-chan
Summary: Sometimes it takes some courage to open the door of a cage. Zidane x Garnet.


The first time I ran into a clear example of duty, I foolishly mistook it for loyalty. You see, to performers like me, duty is one of those heavily avoided things, something that you never really get to understand as you're bound to no one and no one is, in turn, bound back to you. Some may say that is what Tantalus represented to us back in the day, but that would be unfair to even consider. You see, the group we formed, or more accurately the group which took me in, was not bound by duty or anything even remotely similar to it. We were bound by something which ran deeper than any kind of team loyalty – we were a family. You don't have a duty to your family, and they don't expect you to do something just because you're part of one. You just do it. That is something that comes naturally to you, and therefore giving it a name would not be giving it justice.

However, I didn't really know this difference until I experienced the true meaning of 'duty', and it was in you that I first came face-to-face with it. Up until that point I don't even remember having been aware that you could come to hate a concept so much.

You see, you made it look so easy. Your devotion to your land, to your people, to your own mother - you handled those with such grace and pride that I didn't come to realize it was eating you inside until that ever-caring smile I loved stopped making its appearance on your face and it was replaced instead by a ghost of the previous one which would haunt me with its sad beauty.

When I first learned about power like the kind you hold now, about those that wield it, I was taught that some people live for it, and some just to play the 'game'. For most, power meant nothing more than a number of strategies, set in the right order to win something for themselves. Some people lived for the fortune; some people lived just for the fame. There was not one without the other and no exception to the rule. I myself believed that to be true. That is until I met you, of course.

You were everything that I had been taught to believe was nothing more than an idealistic thought, and not only did you show me the error of my previous thoughts, you also had wit and stubbornness and the spirit of one who should not be bound to something as constricting as a throne. Yet you stood by it, bound to 'your duty', and you did it merely out of love for your people, for those that surrounded you.

At first I tried to stay out of it – this part of you I had come to accept a long time ago and trying to pull you away would have felt like denying you a part of what I loved about you. Yet while your judgment may have been that of one three times your age in most situations, I could tell it was slowly draining you. You were not one for trying to please everyone, but you did always want everyone to be happy, and that would most likely prove to be your downfall. For with every day that you devoted yourself entirely to your duty, the chain that bound you to that throne became stronger, and if there was one thing that I knew about you, it was that your greatest fear was being trapped – like a bird, as I recall you telling me.

Of course, I couldn't let it happen. I loved you too much to let you forget who you really were. So, needing no further excuse, I barged into the meeting room while you were in one of those very important meetings with very important people whose names I didn't care enough to remember, walked up to your seat while ignoring their blatant stares, and offered you a hand.

"Care for a walk?"

I'll never forget the smile that graced your lips, because it had been a while since I had seen it and all it took was getting a glimpse of it again to realize how much I had really missed it. It was thankful, it was relieved, and most of all, it said 'It was about time'.

"I was waiting for you to ask."

Needless to say, your guests didn't take too kindly to being ignored, and in the future whoever was holding a meeting with you would come to dread the time when I'd simply come in and steal the queen of Alexandria away. I have to say it did make your meetings a lot shorter, as they'd try to hurry in the hopes of not getting interrupted. I never really told you directly, but I was really glad for that.

I remember asking you afterwards, that day when I first interrupted you, about your duty; telling you about my worries, while feeling awfully silly and like a child complaining to his mother because he didn't get enough cuddle time.

I also remember the way you smiled and raised a hand to my cheek, the soft scent of your skin filling my senses and calming my racing heart with nothing more than such a simple gesture. I also remember every minute, every second, from the minute you leaned over to the moment you whispered soft words next to my ear.

"I don't mind being bound to a throne as long as you are by my side. You're my freedom, Zidane. Loving you is my freedom."

From that moment on, I promised myself that I'd never let another one of your meetings go uninterrupted, and that I wouldn't try and stay out of your business. Despite the fact that I had forgotten, it was my business as well. I wasn't completely sure that you were too happy with the latter on some very particular occasions –especially those that concerned my canceling your morning meetings because I felt like making you stay longer in bed-, but you never complained to me so I graciously chose to ignore it.

After your words, I found myself hugging you tightly to me, finding no better way to express my silent relief at finding the woman I loved was still as present as ever. You simply smiled at me, shook your head and kissed me like we hadn't really kissed in months. I didn't exactly complain; it somehow had felt that way. Afterwards, things get kind of fuzzy. I remember a bush, and flying clothes, and there may even have been a loud squeak involved when Rusty decided to make an appearance on us looking for you to finish the meeting, but that was something that wouldn't happen again during our future absences. Luckily for us, he was stubborn, but not a masochist. Apparently, knights aren't trained to deal with teenage queens on the prime of their youth.

I remember being awfully thankful that thieves are.


End file.
